“What are the chances that you hit him in the chest or somewhere that really matters?”
Amarok shook his head. “I have no idea. Neither of us could see much of anything. But almost any injury can be lethal when it involves a bullet.”
“Are you checking the hospitals, to see if someone was admitted with a gunshot wound last night?”
“We just came from the cabin, so I haven’t had a chance to do much of anything. There’s no cell service where we live, remember? But once I get you and Evelyn home, I’ll be heading to my trooper post, and I’ll start calling the closest hospitals. I’ve already sent a guy who works with me—”
“His name’s Phil,” Evelyn broke in. “He was the man on the phone.”
“Anyway, Phil’s out talking to the locals,” Amarok went on. “We do a lot of our policing up here through informants and word of mouth. Between that and checking the businesses in town to see if anyone has called in sick, we should come up with a few leads.”
“Does that mean you’ll be contacting the prison?” Brianne asked.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Hanover House is our biggest employer.”
Evelyn couldn’t help feeling slightly defensive. “All the psychopaths at Hanover House are locked up.”
“I’m checking everywhere,” Amarok reiterated.
17
Jasper couldn’t stop sweating. He kept wiping his upper lip and complaining that the heater was on too high, but no one else at Hanover Houser seemed to find it too warm. Was it the difficulty of doing his job with an arm that ached intolerably? The stress of going into the bathroom at every opportunity to make sure the bandage wasn’t getting too soaked? The resentment and anger he felt toward Amarok, which burned brighter with every wince?
Or was it something even worse—was his gunshot wound getting infected?
The fear of infection hovered constantly in the back of his mind. He’d read how quickly an open wound could turn septic, especially a gunshot wound, and how quickly sepsis could kill him. He needed rest in order to recover, but—he checked his watch—he had more than four hours to go before the end of his shift.
How on earth would he make it?
He had no idea, but he was determined not to succumb to the pain. He would not let Amarok beat him, even if he had to work with a bullet wound in both arms.
At least it was almost time for lunch. Although he was tempted to spend that forty-five-minute period sitting in a bathroom stall so he could be alone—having to pretend he felt fine took too much added energy—disappearing would be a change from his normal routine, and he didn’t dare do anything different. That was why, when a CO named Sean Derby asked if he’d be playing poker with the other guards who had lunch at the same time, Jasper said yes.
The next ten minutes ticked by so slowly, he ended up going to lunch a little early.
Relieved to be the first to arrive in the break room, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool metal of the locker, where he’d put his heavy coat and other belongings before his shift. He couldn’t continue to function for much longer.…
“Hey, you okay?”
Straightening immediately, Jasper turned toward the voice. He’d expected footsteps to alert him if he had company, but he’d been so caught up in his own misery he hadn’t noticed Delbert Perez, who’d been around the prison much longer than Jasper, breeze in. Jasper hated Delbert simply because everyone else liked him. The dude didn’t have to try to make friends. He had natural charisma—a quality Jasper had never been able to emulate as effectively as he wanted. Although Jasper knew he had a face and body that women admired, and he used to be popular in high school, over the years he seemed to have lost his appeal to his own gender. He was rarely invited to any of the COs’ off-site get-togethers.
But he didn’t care. He understood why. He was better than they were, and no man enjoyed being around a constant reminder of his own shortcomings. “I’m fine. Why?”
Delbert opened his own locker and got out his lunch. “You just looked … I don’t know … upset or sick or something when I walked in.”
“Went out last night, didn’t get enough sleep,” Jasper mumbled.
Delbert gave him a libertine’s smile. “You see that stripper again?”
Jasper had been bragging about his night with Bambi. He’d said she’d asked to go home with him and hadn’t charged him a dime. He hadn’t mentioned the enticement he’d used, of course. Why ruin the story? Any guy could pay for sex. “No.”
“When you gonna call her?”
“Maybe next weekend.” He wasn’t ever going to speak to her again, but no one would believe his night with her had been as spectacular as he claimed if he admitted that he had no interest in another round.
“Where’d you go last night?”
Why was Delbert being so damn nosey? Jasper felt a scowl yank at his features as hostility welled up. “It was just a regular bar. Does it matter?”
Delbert blinked at his churlish response. “No, doesn’t matter to me at all,” he said, and carried his lunch to one of the three round tables in the break room.
“Delbert! We playing a couple of hands of poker tonight, dude?” Massimo McKim, one of several COs who walked in together, was obviously excited to see Delbert, who somehow managed to turn any downtime into a party.
“So long as you’re ready to lose your ass,” Delbert joked.
As three other guys—Sean, who’d spoken to Jasper earlier about the poker game, Easy, who’d found that piece of Kat’s scalp, and a CO by the name of Skip Pence—retrieved their lunches and sat down, the banter contin ued. They all spoke to Delbert, but no one bothered to say much to Jasper.
Assholes … Kicking himself for letting the pain and anger he felt creep into his voice while he was talking to Delbert, he grabbed his lunch and slammed his locker. When everyone’s heads whipped around at the loud bang, Jasper chuckled, but no one seemed to think he was very funny. Massimo went so far as to give him a dirty look.
Growing even more morose than he’d been before coming on break, Jasper bought a soda from one of the vending machines that lined the wall and sat down. He had to eat exclusively with his right hand, which wasn’t too difficult since that was his dominant hand, but the constant pain radiating down his left made him sick to his stomach.
Once they’d finished eating and Jasper had thrown the rest of his meal away so no one would notice how little he’d been able to choke down, Delbert brought out the cards. They were just picking up the hands he’d dealt when Amarok knocked on the open door and strode into the room.
Although seeing the sergeant at the prison wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary, Jasper had never known him to visit the break room. Even Amarok’s attitude was different today. Everything about him said he was now acting in an Official Capacity.
“Gentlemen, I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch,” he said, “but I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask, if you don’t mind.”
The others admired Amarok even more than they did Delbert. The deference they showed him as they readily agreed annoyed Jasper. They were so obvious in their attempts to please Evelyn’s lover. But Jasper could do nothing except play along and hope his wound wouldn’t bleed through his uniform right then and there.
“May I?” Amarok gestured at a chair, which he pulled over from a neighboring table, since there wasn’t an open seat at theirs.
“Of course,” Delbert said, and they all shifted to make room.